The Retired Supporting Character Wants to Live Quietly

[Translator – Peptobismol]

Chapter 58 – Field Trip to the Battlefield (4)

“Hello!”

Orendi greeted cheerfully as I entered the pub.

This was the pub Kazadar had mentioned that morning, where the Combat Department was having their dinner party tonight.

The place had a promotion where if someone could drink an entire beer barrel on the spot, the drinks would be free.

Naturally, any ordinary human trying to drink an entire barrel would not only be impossible but dangerous. It was a clever way to attract attention.

The problem arose when non-humans showed up.

“Welcome! Oh, wait?!”

The pub owner turned pale upon seeing the Orc Brogg and the Dwarf Kazadar enter.

Brogg was massive even for an Orc, and Kazadar was no less intimidating.

Dwarves, after all, are known to drink from infancy to maintain body heat.

“Is it true that emptying the barrel means free drinks? Bring it here!”

“Humans only!”

The pub owner hastily pointed to a small disclaimer at the bottom of the sign which read ‘humans only.’

“This is a scam!!”

“Bad human!! You tricked us!!”

An enraged Kazadar drew his hammer, and Brogg let out a battle cry.

“Call the guards!!”

“Hold on a moment.”

As the nearly fainting pub owner shouted, Morton stepped forward.

“Bring the barrel.”

“But it’s clearly for humans only!”

“Just bring it. I’ll drink it.”

Morton’s yellow hawk-like eyes stared down the pub owner, who reluctantly instructed his staff to bring the beer barrel.

“Alright, everyone, calm down and come inside.”

They managed to push the still-agitated Kazadar and Brogg into the pub and found seats.

“Really, what were you thinking, yelling a battle cry here?”

“He scammed us…”

“Scam or not!”

Lina’s scolding left Brogg scratching his head, unable to argue further.

“Even so, Professor Brogg is quite the gentleman. Any other Orc might have broken a pillar by now.”

Felimia chuckled, adjusting her glasses, and Wever nodded in agreement.

“Indeed. There’s no time for battle cries; they’d be smashing things instead.”

The professors, except for Morton, burst into laughter.

Morton sat calmly, watching as the staff rolled the beer barrel towards him.

Though the event barrel was smaller than a typical beer barrel, it was still more than a human could drink in one sitting.

When the barrel was placed in front of him, Morton opened it and took a beer mug.

“I’ll handle this. You all enjoy yourselves.”

With that, Morton began steadily pouring and drinking the beer, neither too fast nor too slow.

“No restroom breaks. No snacks either!”

“I know, so stop fussing.”

Morton replied lightly, continuing to drink.

If the pub owner knew Morton was a former member of the long-range patrol unit, how would he react?

Long-range patrol unit members are known for their drinking prowess.

They spend weeks on missions deep in enemy territory with little chance to drink, so when they return, they drink as much as they can, knowing they might not get another chance soon.

It was obvious that Morton would succeed, so they freely ordered a lavish amount of expensive food and drinks.

“By the way, will the headmaster be joining us?”

Lina asked as she looked at the table filled with drinks and food.

“She said she’d try to come, but she wasn’t sure.”

“She’ll come if she can. If she’s busy, she won’t.”

“Still, she’s also a professor of our Combat Department. It’d be nice if she could join us.”

“Indeed. I feel a bit sorry for her.”

Orendi chimed in from across the table.

“I visited her office once, and the amount of paperwork was staggering.”

“She’s a pitiful person. Such a kind soul, yet she’s always getting pushed around.”

Wever nodded.

Recently, I learned that the Combat Department professors were surprisingly sympathetic towards Kirrin.

Despite the department’s downsizing, they seemed to understand her complicated situation.

Everyone was somewhat aware of the ongoing relation between the Dark Elf Nemara Clan and the Emperor. As professors, they could infer the deeper implications.

“Would you care to say a few words?”

Felimia poured my glass full of liquor and smiled.

“Alright, alright.”

I raised my glass and gave a short toast about working hard to make our department even greater, then took a drink.

As soon as I emptied my glass, Felimia refilled it.

“Thank you for all your hard work for the department.”

“Thanks.”

As soon as I drank, she filled it again.

“Drink a lot tonight.”

“You too.”

“By the way, what were you talking about earlier?”

“What do you mean?”

“About the poison gas and landmines at Ivronic Castle. It’s the first I’ve heard of it.”

“Now that you mention it.”

Orendi, while munching on a snack, joined the conversation.

“I’m curious too. Can you explain?”

“Oh, that? Back in the war, the demons defending Ivronic Castle laid mines and spread poison gas in front of it. I thought they were still there.”

“That was over ten years ago. It’s been a tourist spot for a while now.”

“Exactly. I was surprised when I heard it too.”

“Were you at the Battle of Ivronic Castle during the recapture?”

“Yeah, I was.”

“Ehh?! Really?! How on earth did you survive there?!”

Lina exclaimed in shock.

“I don’t know. It was all a blur, and I never want to remember it. It was truly a horrific place.”

“Now it makes sense why you mentioned poison gas and mines. If you fought in the recapture and moved to Brunswell after the war, you would naturally think it was still the same.”

Lina glanced at Felimia, as if to say, ‘See, I told you.’

“So, Head Professor, were you with the 12th Corps? They were the ones who recaptured Ivronic Castle.”

Felimia, smiling slyly, refilled my glass.

“Who knows? Was it the 8th Corps? The 5th? Or maybe it was the 12th? Hmm… or was it the 1st?”

I wasn’t lying. I served in the 8th Corps as a soldier and moved around different corps during my time in the special unit.

“Considering you changed units, you must have started as a soldier and rose to an officer.”

“Something like that.”

“What other battles did you participate in besides the recapture of the Ivronic Castle?”

“Too many to remember.”

This was also true. Apart from the major battles, the smaller skirmishes blended together, making it hard to recall specifics.

“But why did you settle in Brunswell? It’s not your hometown if you lived there for ten years.”

“I just wanted a peaceful life. It’s a nice place with a decent population and good amenities.”

“I see… You became an officer from a soldier, participated in the recapture of the Ivronic Castle, and moved to Brunswell after the war…”

Felimia was listening intently, as if piecing together a puzzle.

“Here, have a drink.”

She poured another round into my recently emptied glass.

“Head Professor, while we’re on the topic, could you tell us about the recapture of the Ivronic Castle?”

Wever suggested, and the other professors looked at me eagerly.

[Translator – Peptobismol]

“No.”

I refused outright. Of all places, I never wanted to speak about that one.

“It must be a terrible memory. Drink up and forget all about it.”

Felimia poured another drink into my glass.

# # # # #

About an hour later.

Felimia had moved next to me, continuing to encourage me to drink. She had already forced dozens of beers on me.

“I’m full.”

“It’s free, look.”

Felimia pointed at Morton’s empty beer barrel.

He had steadily poured and drank the beer, eventually emptying the barrel.

“Impressive…”

“So, professor, drink up.”

Felimia closely watched me as I drank.

Hmm, look at her… She’s trying something again. Let’s see if I can catch her…

“I need to stop. I’m feeling dizzy…”

I deliberately clutched my forehead and swayed. Felimia’s eyes flashed momentarily.

An invisible, sharp force pricked at me, but I didn’t block it.

Time to make it clear to her. No more wasting efforts.

I lured Felimia, who was probing my memories, in the direction I wanted.

Go ahead, Felimia, see what you wish in my memories.

And realize.

Realize how dangerous it is to recklessly dig where you don’t know what lies beneath.

A few seconds into the psychological probing.

“Gah!”

Felimia overturned a glass and collapsed, clutching her mouth, gagging.

“Wh-what’s wrong, professor?”

A drunken Lina slurred, her speech garbled.

“D-did you drink too much…?”

Felimia couldn’t respond, trembling in horror as she looked up at me.

“Who… who are you, professor…?”

“You just saw it.”

“But that… Gah!!”

Unable to continue, Felimia knocked over her chair and hurriedly ran outside.

[Translator – Peptobismol]